


And you wait to breathe

by OurEchoes



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Thor, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3843349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurEchoes/pseuds/OurEchoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere, in the back of Loki’s mind, he knows this is a bad idea. He isn’t quite sure how things happened but if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t find the strength in him to care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And you wait to breathe

Somewhere, in the back of Loki’s mind, he knows this is a bad idea. He isn’t quite sure how things happened but if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t find the strength in him to care.

( _Quickly, so sudden that Loki’s head had nearly swam, Thor’s hands cradling his face, Thor’s lips warm and wet against his, the deep musk of mead on his breath and soft slide of his tongue.)_

Because Thor’s edging them closer and closer to the bed, the back of Loki’s knees hitting the end almost too soon and somehow not soon enough. It’s obvious from the way Thor’s moving them that he wants control of this intoxicated tryst, and with any other man Loki wouldn’t mind, would enjoy it even, but this is Thor, and it’s a given that while Loki fancies the thought of Thor pushing him down and utterly wrecking him, that’s not what Loki wants. He’s always been so sure, so positive of how he wanted Thor, that finding himself in the position and wanting something completely different feels almost like a betrayal to his younger self.

_ (‘Thats the reason you want this,’ he tells himself. 'Because you are not that boy and the future holds no second chances at this for you.’) _

Loki utterly aches with the thought, his hands gripping slightly tighter to their places on his brother’s arms. Before Thor can react, Loki turns them so that Thor falls flat on the bed. Loki nearly expects him to take insult at the show of dominance, but there isn’t a trace of displeasure on Thor’s face, his smile soft and amused. He huffs a laugh.

“Well aren’t you going to join me?” he says, his words a little slurred.

Loki slinks up the bed until he’s hovering over Thor, their chests breathing softly in sync. Loki breathes in his brother, his lips ever so close, and Thor bridges the gap between them with a surprising gentleness.

_(Thor’s always been an unstoppable force in everything he’s done, harsh hits and lightning finger tips, always so rough, so unrelenting, that Loki had prepared for rough, prepared for unrelenting, prepared for a battle not a bed.)_

Loki lets himself enjoy the kiss for so long, he nearly gets lost in the rhythm of it. Thor’s hand sliding up his spine brings him back rather quickly, though, and he sets about ridding them of their clothes. Loki would use magic to do so, would probably hurry things along, but there’s something in the way of seeing each part of Thor uncovered so slowly. It’s as if he’s being shown a secret, or maybe finally understanding the meaning to one long known.

It isn’t that Loki’s never seen Thor nude, no. They’re brothers. They’ve bathed countless times, far into adulthood even. It’s the way that every inch of skin revealed is another inch for Loki. The intimacy of it all is so intoxicating, so thrilling that Loki finds his cock nearly aching with want by the time that Thor’s trousers are off. And for good reason.

Thor is so utterly gorgeous that Loki has to remind himself that it’s common bedroom etiquette to touch what is put before you, yet once his hands make contact with warm skin, Loki knows he will not stop, not until he’s sated his need for the next four millennia of his life.

_('Do not take this for granted. Rid yourself of futile desires, ones you cannot change and never shall.’)_

Thor has always embodied warmth, always sun like in that he brought you comfort but was assuredly unattainable, that now Loki’s only fear is of the flames he is certain will burn him inside out the longer he holds on. It is masochism in its purest form that he hopes he will never let go, hopes the flames eat at his bones. A truly fitting death that one with ice in his veins be burned alive.

His fingers run from the sharp line of Thor’s shoulder to his collarbone, back once, twice before deciding their place is along his jugular. Loki presses his mouth to the fiery skin and bites, feeling flesh twist beneath his teeth, and the moan he gets in return is pure divinity. He thinks quite quickly that he’d like to hear it again, so Loki sucks and the sound repeats and the vibration of it hums against Loki’s lips.

He kisses the bruise once before descending down the collumn of his brother’s throat, repeating the action over and over until he’s happy with the dark red and purple marks around Thor’s neck.

His tongue flicks at the dip of his collarbone and Loki thinks that Thor’s skin tastes of electricity, of copper and rain and all of the things he’s always imagined. It’s so utterly Thor that it grounds Loki, keeps him from pretending this is anything more than what it is.

_(He doesn’t fool himself with notions of authenticity. Thor is vulnerable, happy that Loki is alive and breathing and here. He will leave, Loki knows this. He will leave once he remembers Jane and Midgard and all that Loki is. He will leave.)_

Loki reaches soft, pink nubs shortly and finds himself fascinated with the way they peak at his touch. He lathes one of them with his tongue as he pinches the other and Thor raises his chest to meet Loki’s mouth, cheeks flush as he looks into Loki’s eyes. Loki takes the opportunity to suck hard and earns an inhale for that.

“I see your tongue is good for more than lashes.” Thor says, his voice low and breathy. Loki bites down until Thor rewards him another moan before moving to do the same with the other nipple.

Against his stomach, Loki can feel Thor leak precum as he subtly rocks his hips forward, cock moving against Loki’s skin so slowly that Loki nearly misses the movement.

_(Whoever would suspect the god of thunder to be subtle in anything, no less his bed.)_

It isn’t long before Loki’s made a mess of Thor’s chest, mark after mark winding over hard ridges and solid hip bones. And while Loki knows it would be only polite to relieve some of the ache between Thor’s legs, he’s never been one for politeness.

As Loki brings his mouth to the top of Thor’s kneecap, he wonders how close to groveling this appears. He guesses it’s as close as he’ll ever come, but it still sets his blood aflame with annoyance. Why, even when below Loki, even when completely submissive, does it feel as though Thor is in control here?

_('You’ve ruined everything now by showing him this weakness. He will never see you as an equal.’)_

Loki chances a glance up, expecting a knowing grin and lidded eyes, but is greeted with something else entirely as Thor turns his head to the side, lip lightly closed between teeth. It is as wonderful as it is unnerving, and somehow it eases his worries.

Loki licks a stripe from knee to groin before biting down on the fleshy part of a thigh. He makes sure that the mark is deep and staying before he moves onto the next thigh.

Thor has begun to whisper a litany of ‘brother’ and curses under his breath and the way his voice catches on some words leaves Loki leaking as well. He doesn’t stop with Thor’s thighs until Thor groans.

“Loki.” he says, voice broken and impatient. Loki chuckles as he bites down one last time.

“So eager, brother.” Loki kisses the lowest part of Thor’s abdomon, mouthing ever so slightly at the light hair there. “One would think you enjoy being fucked so.. lovingly."

Thor laughs humorlessly.

"There is nothing loving in your shameless enjoyment of my need for release." Loki laughs then, too, because Thor’s only mostly right, but he cannot deny any delight in seeing Thor so needy.

Thor’s mouth opens to make another remark, but Loki’s already conjuring slick to his hand, fingers moving quickly to circle Thor’s entrance, and Thor’s words die on his tongue as he groans, mouth slack. Loki takes the moment to ease two fingers in, finding little resistance. It mesmerizes Loki how willingly Thor’s body accepts this, how his fingers move with ease in out of his brother. He speeds up the movement until Thor grunts and kicks at Loki.

"More.” is all he says. Loki can’t stop himself from grinning.

“Oh, did you want me to use three fingers?”

Thor narrows his eyes at the ceiling.

“Loki."

Loki has to keep himself from full on chuckling at his brother’s embarrassment.

"I’m only trying to confirm your needs, Thor. No need to be haughty.” Thor huffs an annoyed sigh.

“I’d prefer you just get on with it if we are speaking truthfully. I tire of your teasing, Loki."

Somehow, Thor says this without malice and Loki decides perhaps it would be better to move on, seeing as he isn’t sure how he’s going to last at this point anyways.

As he moves his way up Thor’s body, he revisits all of his handiwork. He bites at Thor’s side and kisses at his navel, making sure to suck the bruises afresh. Thor’s soft hiss sends a burn all a new in Loki’s belly. He feels so distant and too close at once and he tries, needs to, really, remind himself to make this last, to drag it out and to lock it away.

He finds it hard to do so when he alligns himself with his brother’s entrance and presses his face into the curve of his neck, inching in so damned slowly. His thoughts are put full stop once he passes the initial ring of muscle, white hot flame coursing through his entire being and for a moment Loki thinks this is it, this is the way he’ll die, because he can’t breathe for how hot, how goodThor feels. Loki thinks he’s found his own undoing in this and that he’s ruined everything, every future attempt at proving himself a worthy adversary, because this, this is the epitome of his failure.

_(It isn’t until that moment that Loki realizes that he never stopped falling into the abyss, that this is the crash he’s been waiting for. His hold is cracking at the edges and this time he’s only got himself to blame.)_

He moves his hips forward and thinks it somehow makes it worse because now there’s delicious friction and, oh, how perfect that Loki isn’t even capable of fucking when it comes to Thor. Suddenly there’s pressure on his lower back and Thor’s pushing him down, down until he bottoms out, and it’s all too soon really. Loki wants to give in, wants to rut into Thor without abandon, but he can’t trust himself with that, knows it’ll reveal too much and break the weak hold on his sanity he still maintains.

"Loki, please.” Thor says seemingly without thought and it’s all it takes for Loki to give in.

_(All of this time, all of this time. He’s waited so long.)_

Thor is everywhere it seems and Loki’s losing himself, he knows it, but the wet sounds of their skin, the tight pressure of Thor on his cock, the way Thor’s mouth curls into a smile even as he moans wantonly, the way he keeps saying Loki’s name, like a prayer to the Norns. It’s all too much, it’s too much and Loki thinks it’ll never be enough, how will he live without this now?

Loki thrusts at particularly great angle and soon Thor is biting down on Loki’s shoulder and Loki reaches a hand down to stroke Thor once, twice and then Thor’s coming as he cries out ‘brother’ once more, and the friction is too much and the warmth is too much and he can see the crash before he even reaches the ground.

“Come for me, Loki.” Thor says and that’s it.

Loki hits the ground head on, white lights clouding his vision as he nearly screams Thor’s name into his skin.

_(He wonders if it was worth it.)_

-

When Loki comes to, there’s soft light coming in through the curtains on the far side of the room. Everything is still dimly lit. It can’t be much past dawn.

There’s a dull ache in his thighs and shoulders and he feels as though he could sleep for a century. It takes him a moment to even recall where he is, much less what happened the night before. Once he does, though, he feels dread fill his stomach. He nearly feels sick.

What has he done?

He can’t even bring himself to turn around because, no, he has to be gone. He wouldn’t have stayed. He has Jane and Midgard and no room in his life for a twisted brother who will never love him the way he needs and deserves. One who has attempted to end his life over and over again, one who is so cruel that he killed with no remorse for the innocent, one who isn’t even Aesir but a monster, raised on lies and born from the belly of a beast.

He can’t bring himself to see the empty side of the bed. He wonders how he’ll even be able to sleep in the same room. The same realm for that matter.

Loki’s so entirely convinced he is alone that when a warm hand lands on his hip, he has to keep himself from startling. There’s the scratch of beard on his shoulder as Thor kisses at his neck.

“Are you feeling rested, brother?” he says, voice hoarse. Loki surpresses a shiver.

“Mmm, I would suppose so."

Loki feels hesitant, shocked, and honestly defensive that he’s expecting the worst, that Thor will tell him to leave, that it was a mistake.

What he doesn’t expect is for Thor to laugh quietly and say,

"Good, because now it’s my turn."

-

_(Loki thinks that he’d suffer an eternity of crashes and moments too close to the sun if his death was always this lovely.)_

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow decided to post this to ao3 exactly a year after posting it on tumblr unknowingly because I'm a major weirdo. The only Thor/Loki thing I've yet to publish even though I breathe thorki. Any comments or feedback are appreciated, folks!


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